


For Want of a Parking Spot

by DocGorpy



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 18:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18834544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DocGorpy/pseuds/DocGorpy
Summary: “You got a problem with my cab?”“No, I love your cab, we should all drive cabs.”





	For Want of a Parking Spot

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this based on a prompt found on tumblr by @doncasterlyrock.

Joe groans as he pulls on the handbrake of his car. He finally found a spot after spending fifteen minutes driving around campus looking for one. He tried to pull in but realized that it was too narrow a gap. Some fucker had parked his car in the middle of two slots, barely making any room for his. 

He realizes, after a few angry curses at the driver’s expense, that the driver in question, is in fact, still inside the offending vehicle. Of course, Joe’s not one to easily forgive such felony, so he gets out of his car, slings the tail end of his scarf towards his back, and raps a gloved knuckle purposefully on the bastard’s window.

“Hey asshole,” the perpetrator jumps and whips his gaze towards him, “yeah, you." Joe makes a motion for him to roll down his window. Once it’s halfway open, he continues, "Move your fuckin’ car.”

The man looks a little disheveled, and if Joe doesn’t know any better, he’d say that he looks like he’s on the verge of tears. “Okay, sorry,” the guy rasps. 

“Jesus, no need to get all worked up about it.”

The man doesn’t answer, he just starts his engine and drives a little bit forward to make room. Joe’s tongue juts toward his cheek and he shakes his head impatiently as he goes back to his car to park it properly. He passes the stranger’s car as he moves to walk to his building, and sees that the guy is bumping his head continuously on the steering wheel. 

“What the fuck?” The window is still open, and the man hears him, so he looks up and Joe sees that his face is as pale as death. “ _What the fuck,_ ” he repeats. 

“Don’t look at me,” the stranger says dramatically and looks away. There’s a long pause.

“Gladly.” Joe turns and starts to walk away. 

“Wait!" 

Joe winces then turns back around. He sees the guy’s lips, which are drained of all color, hanging open after his desperate call. "Aw, what the hell,” he says, “I’m already late, anyway. Whaddaya want?” His mother had always taught him to be a Good Samaritan, and like every Jewish mama’s boy, he always listened to his mother.

The guy reaches over to the passenger door and opens it for him, Joe’s tongue is in his cheek again as he gets in the car almost too compliantly and shuts the door. His mother had also taught him not to talk to strangers, let alone get into their cars, and it was then that he realized how contradictory his mother really was. He would never say it out loud though.

“I can’t go in there. I’m a fraud.” The man starts, his blue eyes are tearing up again. 

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m… Well… It’s my first day.”

“Get outta here, me too," Joe offers dryly, but it’s like talking to a deaf person.

"I just can’t do it!” It’s like he’s realizing the fact for the first time and he’s pulling at his hair as if it’s the only thing keeping him from going completely off the rails.

Joe rolls his eyes. “Look, pal, whatever you’re yappin’ on about, you have got to get yourself together. Ain’t nothin’s gonna happen to you if you stay holed up here in your…” He looks around the car, “What is this, a Sixty?” He dismisses the thought and continues with his half-hearted pep talk. 

“Point is, no good’s gonna come out of avoiding it, you just gotta man up and do it. Nice and quick, so you don’t even have time to think about nothing.”

The stranger considers this and finally, nods his head. Joe sighs in relief, and the next thing he knows, his hands have become balled up in the man’s own bizarrely soft ones (like he's never worked a day in his life), and are being shaken vigorously. “Thank you,” he says gratefuly. “A little tough love is just what I needed.” Just like that, he grabs this impossibly swanky leather satchel from the back seat and exits the vehicle.

“Well, that was easy.” Joe raises a brow and follows him out of the car. He sees that they’re headed to the same bulding.

“I’m David,” the stranger finally introduces himself. 

“Joe.”

“Thanks again, Joe, really." 

"Don’t mention it.” Joe pauses, then adds firmly, “Ever.”

“Whatever you say, buddy." They pass Joe’s car on the way, "You drive a cab?”

“You got a problem with my cab?”

“No, I love your cab, we should all drive cabs.”

“Alright, don’t be a dick about it.”

“I’m not,” David laughs. 

It’s silent for a while. Joe nears the door to his lecture hall and hopes to God that this ‘David’ fellow is just passing by. But he isn’t, David enters the room with him. So instead, Joe prays that his new 'friend’ won’t dare sit next to him. 

To his complete and utter horror, David goes all the way to the fucking front, sets his swanky fucking satchel on the professor’s desk, and says, in the most shit-eating grin and irritating sing-song voice Joe swears he’s ever heard, “Good morning, class. I apologize for the delay. Welcome to Advanced German Grammar. My name is David Webster and I’ll be your professor for the duration of the course.”

“Fuckin’ hell!” Joe all but wails. 


End file.
